Golden Boy

A yell of anguish, anger, and fear rang through the empty clearing, as I frantically stumbled back, causing the knot in my stomach to shoot itself straight to my throat. The sickening crunch that followed was arguably far worse to hear. The hairs on the back of my neck prickled. My legs were weighing me down into the slightly damp earth. I could feel every blade of long grass scratching at my ankles. Horror held me in a chokehold, not allowing my body to free itself from its grasp to make sure my brother was alright. Horror, or perhaps disbelief.

“Ethan?” The pathetic trembling of my own voice stirred something within me. A pulsing heat formed behind my eyes. No response. “Ethan, this isn’t funny!” A bit more power in volume, but the watery tone still present. Maybe he just hadn’t heard me the first time? A thousand invisible hands were pressing at my head causing my vision to darken. I shook myself from my stupor and willed my heavy legs forward through the itchy grass. The scent of petrichor that filled my nose was no longer as pleasant as it had been earlier that evening. I cautiously approached the edge of the ditch, freezing in my tracks before I could see past the lip of it. It was as if ice water had been injected directly into my veins. I knew exactly what was waiting for me and the thought was unbearable. “Ethan?” I tried again. He had no excuse for not answering this time. A pained scream tore itself from my throat as I forced myself to close the distance needed to peer into the muddy ditch. My knees dug painfully into the ground as I fell, hands clasping over my mouth at an attempt to keep the contents of my lunch down. This was all my fault. 

“Annabelle!” He’d shrieked just hours prior, laughter filling his warm voice. The sun had begun its steady decline down towards the horizon, but the world would remain well-lit for a few hours more. I chased after him leading with my closed fist. 

“Stop running, I can't keep up!” I hollered back, giggling like a total maniac. He stumbled over something, a root or rock I’d assume, and at last the distance closed between us. With a loud thump we tumbled to the ground.

“No, don’t!” Of course I didn’t listen and promptly opened my fist, allowing the lizard I caught to run free over my brother’s face. He squealed with disgust and shoved me away, swatting the lizard off of him in the process. We were both covered in dirt, much to his dismay.

Out of the two of us, Ethan was definitely the cleanlier one. His room was always tidy, his hair always clean, and I swear he had zero body odor. On the other hand, my room always has clothes on the floor, my hair is constantly frizzy, and I have to buy some special deodorant so my sweat smells like ‘coco-vanilla dreams’, whatever that is. Ethan hated being dirty whereas I was outside every chance I could get. He never turned down a chance to spend time with me though, even if that meant getting chased around having lizards thrown at him. We weren’t the stereotypical brother-sister dynamic, but I think that made our bond more special. 

“You’re so gross Annie.” He was obviously choking back his laughter. It only fueled mine.

“You’re such a baby!” Tears of pure humor streamed down my face. I felt something wispy hit my arm. “Don’t throw grass at me, jerk!”

“Don’t throw grass at me, jerk!” He mocked, throwing more grass at me before scrambling away. 

We ran, we talked, we argued, we forgave, we explored, and we sought refuge under a big tree when it started to rain and we didn’t quite feel like making the walk home. Stick stories were drawn in the mud. Mud wars were fought and white sneakers were ruined. I don’t remember how play fighting turned into real anger. It all happened so quickly.

“It’s getting late.”

“Mom and dad probably haven’t even noticed we’re gone.” I replied carelessly, shredding up damp leaves with my fingernails and casting away the bits into the ditch we sat near. In my brain this was Ethan and I’s spot. The two rocks we sat on, the mostly empty field, the ditch that now had a layer of murky water at the bottom of it, it was all our own little world. Far enough from home to feel freeing, but close enough to bike to without sweating our skin off.

“I wouldn’t say that.” I rolled my eyes at this. Of course he’s on their side. “Just because they’re busy doesn’t mean they don’t care about us.”

“I didn’t say they didn’t care.”

“You implied it.”

    “Did not.”

     “Did so.”

     “Did not.”

     “Annie.” I bristled slightly at his tone, crossing my arms with a huff. 

     “You don’t get it because they like you more.”

     “Stop saying stuff like that. They love us equal.” It was his turn to cross his arms now.

     “They love us the same but they like you more. You know they do. They think you’re easier than me.” He tried to interject but I wouldn’t allow it. “You’re their golden boy and I’m the little mess that needs to mature already.” I couldn’t help the tiny trickle of hurt that seeped into my voice. This wasn’t a new concept I’d just invented out of thin air. My parents always favored my brother, and it continuously amazed me how he somehow couldn’t see it. Or perhaps he just refused to. 

“That’s not fair.” His voice was gentle and reasonable as ever, but I could see the way his eyebrows knitted together.

“Don’t get mad just because I’m right.” I knew I was picking a fight now, but I couldn’t back down. I hated fighting with Ethan, but at that point I was tired. My muscles were sore from all the running, my throat and mouth were dry from dehydration, and I was not about to let him have the bliss of being right about one more thing. Especially not about our parents.

“I’m not mad and you’re not right.”

“It doesn’t score you brownie points to defend them behind their backs.”

“Why are you so insistent on acting like they hate you?” There was a sharpness to his words that only served to rile me up.

“Why are you so insistent on acting like they don’t like you more?” In an instant I was standing, my shoes sinking slightly into the slippery mud. I didn’t care. My shoes were already ruined. “It’s bad enough without you acting all modest about it or whatever it is you’re doing. Try getting off your high horse for once.” 

“Well maybe they’d like you more if you tried picking up after yourself for once. Or maybe you could pretend to be grateful instead of being a total brat to mom all the time!” Ethan snapped, standing to meet me. His tone was harsh and the words stung in a way I wasn’t familiar with.

“Well-”

“Or maybe put an ounce of effort into your schoolwork and bring back a decent report card one day. Or stop shutting down and running to your room during dinner the second someone disagrees with you. I mean seriously, Annabelle. You complain about them liking me more, but you’re not giving them a reason not to and you’re blaming me for it.”

I couldn’t stand there any longer. I could feel the burning sensation behind my eyes and I refused to cry in front of my stupid, selfish brother. I ran. My legs pumping and my throat burning as my hurt attempted to escape me. I could hear him calling after me but I didn’t care. 

A sharp pain shot through my ankle and a cry was torn from my lips. I felt a firm hand grip my arm before I hit the ground, yanking me backwards to safety. 

“Are you okay?” All of the anger from our argument had dissipated and was replaced with concern. Well, his anger had dissipated. Mine had only amplified. 

“Get away from me!” I shrieked and shoved him away, my eyes screwed shut in pain. I instantly began to run again but froze when I heard a frightened yell in return. I’d never heard Ethan yell like that. I whipped around quickly trying to see what the fuss was, but there was nothing to see. Ethan wasn’t there.

I felt myself grow dizzy as my eyes frantically searched the clearing before landing on the ditch I’d been running by. Realization settled like a mountain of bricks in my chest. This is all my fault.

I couldn’t bike home after I saw his body. I couldn’t call anyone because my phone had died, though I don’t know what I would’ve said if I could. I crawled down to him, not caring that my clothes would be completely ruined. My throat was raw from screaming. I could barely see through the salty tears that somehow never ran dry. At some point I tried dragging him out, but I wasn’t strong enough even with adrenaline coursing through me. For a brief moment I laughed. God, I couldn’t stop laughing. I was convinced this was a cruel prank. A way for him to get back at me for yelling at him earlier or some sick lesson in gratitude. It wasn’t. The red flowing from the back of his head was a sure sign of that.

I don’t remember how or when I got home. All I remember is my parents' faces when they figured out what I had done to their precious baby. I don’t know the details of what happened after that, but to my understanding 911 was called and the hospital couldn’t save him. Maybe if I’d run home as soon as it happened they could’ve stopped the bleeding, but I waited by his side too long. I waited by his side too long and now I’d never get to be by his side again.

This is all your fault. Words my parents would never speak aloud, but in my heart I knew they thought it. They were right. This is all my fault.